Vasquez stares at Goodnight with sympathy, but he can't exactly bring himself to understand. He lacks empathy that way, because he's never had anyone or anything in his life, which means that the only thing they could take from him is his life. And, well, if he's dead, then they already managed to do that, didn't they?

"This is the trouble with letting yourself open up, being responsible for something," he warns, like he has any business talking about this when he'd been achingly lonely for the last several years of his life, only having a quick tumble when he can manage.

"Here's a better question. Do you really think anything you do here will change what they already intend to take?" he suggests. "Because I don't think so."